


Altschmerz (EXO)

by weishenbwi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Boy Park Chanyeol, BaekYeol - Freeform, Blood and Violence, Bottom Byun Baekhyun, ChanBaek - Freeform, Choking, Dacryphilia, Dark Past, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Forced Bonding, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Hurt Byun Baekhyun, I'm Sorry Byun Baekhyun, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Innocent Byun Baekhyun, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadist Park Chanyeol, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sleep Paralysis, Smut, Sociopath Chanyeol, Sociopath Park Chanyeol, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Top Park Chanyeol, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:26:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29657526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weishenbwi/pseuds/weishenbwi
Summary: “Baekhyunie, you smell so good. Like sweat and panic.” Chanyeol's a sadist and Baekhyun is suffering. It's mostly ChanBaek in anguish (I'm sorry babies ilysm). Chanyeol loves playing with those who come into the asylum and it's even better when they cry. It’s not like he could ever be held accountable and even if he were it wouldn't matter. He doesn’t ever plan to leave here anyway. Not until the boy with the floofy hair, sad eyes, and love for tiny flowers walks in. Chanyeol thinks it would be better if Baekhyun's love for tiny flowers and soft things were crushed beneath him. Because lately his mind has been breaking and Baekhyun should break too.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. "It Hurts."

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Altschmerz (NCT)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677862) by [weishenbwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weishenbwi/pseuds/weishenbwi). 



> Baekhyun as a frightful, whimpering boy? Can it really get better than that? Yes, introduce size kink. 👀👄👀  
> I had half a mind to write this as Kyungsoo/Baekhyun but the size kink won out. 😔👊 I really do write this for every group I stan huh. It's the story's fault for being one of my personal favorites. 😭✌️

Baekhyun woke several times in the night cold, lonely, and covered in sweat. 

Something he should have been able to accept and digest long ago. It's the stubbornness of it, he would think, and the way it sneaks up and grabs you. It will remain endlessly horrific no matter how many times the scenario presents itself. And it has presented itself regularly. Every night as a matter of fact. Only this night, he dreamt he was in his house again, resting peacefully on a soft mattress and blanket he's had since his innocent years; when youth was all he knew and nightmares were soothed by wise hands.

Time changed that.

It had changed everything.

There were no longer wise hands. No one to turn to for help or comfort. So Baekhyun slept as he lived. Isolated. Alone.

It was during these hours when he couldn’t stay awake, when his tired eyes couldn’t hold off the exhaustion of his body, that unconsciousness infringed. Like a stranger violating a body, restraining it with their own, this somatic presence fills his nose, his mouth, overflowing into his ears and eyes, suppressing Baekhyun’s vulnerable little body. Unable to lift his head. Unable to lift his arms. His legs equally held down. A shadow pervading every part of Byun Baekhyun, seeping through his pores, into his veins, through every strand of hair both above and below. But it’s only darkness and it will pass. It does every night.

 _“Sleep paralysis.”_ the doctors call it. An uninvited playmate in the night. The kind of playmate that involves fragments of barely conscious rapid eye movement blended with panic, disquieting images, and a heart beating too hard, beating too fast, thumping and racing. Not being able to move or speak is frightening. 

_“It’ll pass in a few moments Baekhyun. Just try and stay calm. You’ll be okay.”_

_“It’s violating.”_

_“It’s not real.”_

_“It’s against my will.”_

_“It happens.”_

His subconscious wants to call out, needs someone to save him from this distress, but the miasma only sinks deeper into Baekhyun’s chest, spreading throughout his anatomy, cradling him in darkness.

And then everything's gone. 

What remains is but a residue of pressure and shadows. The nervousness and stress drifting into hibernation as Baekhyun’s tired body slips deeper into unconsciousness.

Chanyeol out of bed after hours hears Baekhyun’s frightful panicking. Smiling at the vulnerability of his only "friend" in this god-forsaken place, he is glad tonight's entertainment is someone he's more familiar with. Something about the intimacy in the older’s panicked cries has Chanyeol shuffling his feet at a slightly quicker pace to reach his destination and to his luck, the entertainment’s room is unlocked. Most are on this ward. It’s the saner side of insanity so there aren’t as many precautions, rules, securities. It’s too easy, he thinks, as he turns the knob to Baekhyun's room. But he’s glad because it works in his favor- and that's worthy of appreciation. 


	2. Reluctant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baekhyun is Chanyeol's reluctant toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the tags/warnings before reading these other chapters. Final warning.

With amusement and without permission, one patient watches the other. 

One, a fearful, trembling boy sweating beneath cheap hospital sheets. His delicate form wrestling against the afflictions that torment him. The other, a curious sadist, head slightly tilted, eyes fixed on the smaller boy with a superficial smirk across his face. Baekhyun’s quiet but anguished sobbing is like music to Chanyeol’s ears. If there were a heaven, this would be it. He’s always liked Baekhyun’s voice. He can’t explain it but there’s a unique quality to it that most people don’t have. It’s one of the things that made him notice Baekhyun in the first place.

Well, that and new patients are easy targets.

He can tell his hyung is trying to call out, but the words are caught in his throat, and he's only able to groan in agony.

A sonata.  
Magnificent. 

A smile forms on the younger’s face as he watches the older writhe among the obscurity, weakly whimpering from whatever plagues him this night. It’s an interesting show for Chanyeol who decides to get up and stand closer, watching under the luminescence of the moon. The lightning unveils the older’s face so intensely, betraying everything the shadows covered. Tears finally collapsing from whatever box his hyung used to trap them during waking hours. Falling from memories as rain falls from the sky. Baekhyun’s agony paints his face and Chanyeol thinks it’s a beautiful sight. There are so few things as honest as this one’s painfully exposed tears. _“It hurts.”_ Chanyeol imagines Baekhyun would say if he were awake, imagines he has said this many times, both to himself and to whoever will listen.

He would feel pity for him if he felt anything at all. Kindness is a lie and most people, deep down, want authenticity; the truth that comes with people like Chanyeol.

His truth, Baekhyun’s truth, is a singular vulgar poem. No one could bring themselves to recite it or bear it personally, but the unbroken want to hear it, read about it, see it on the news. They need it because it gives them hope. _“It could always be worse."_


	3. Sweat and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol's kinda f*cked up.

Chanyeol is a sociopath, or so he’s been told, and he’s not sure why he’s even allowed on this ward. Doctor Minnie, as he jokingly calls him without feeling any playfulness at all, says he’s progressing in treatment and it shouldn’t be long before Chanyeol is rehabilitated for the “real world” as they call it. As if it’s any more real out there than it is in here. If anything the rawness is more visceral here, everyone more painfully themselves. In here, it's like everyone's nerves are on the outside of their body and everyone else can see it. No one smiles if they don't want to. Laughs if they'd rather cry. One patient doesn't expect anything from the other. There’s also a lack of expectation from each other that anyone will actually get better. And when someone gets re-admitted, well, that’s just what the “real world” does for you.

Another benefit, Chanyeol considers, is how he can watch this boy suffer in his sleep and no one knows he's doing it.  
\- In here, I can pull this chair up to his bed and have front row seats to Boy-Has-Daddy or Mommy-Issues, he thinks to himself.  
\- In here, I can lean forward and lick the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Salty.  
\- In here, I can place my hand over his mouth and Hold. Hold. Hold. And stop.  
\- In here, I have power to give him life as he inhales deeply unaware that I could have just as easily taken it.  
\- In here, I can crawl into his bed slowly and gently lay next to him...

His thoughts are interrupted by Baekhyun’s awareness that he isn't alone.

 _“Hu-“_ A swift and firm hand covers the older’s mouth playing in harmony with the downpour outside. Chanyeol's steady body presses closer into Baekhyun’s own trembling one. _“Shh…Baekhyun. You’re okay. It's Chanyeol. I’m not going to hurt you.”_ It will lower the older’s defenses.

 _“Y-Yeolie? I- What are you-?”_ Baekhyun whispers as his laborious breathing begins to quieten.

Chanyeol presses his body against Baekhyun’s a little more, nuzzling against him as he would if they were close friends. _“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”_ He whispers _. "I was out of bed when I heard you were having a panic attack.”_ Moving back a little, elbow propping up his body so as to look down on the older who was still reeling, eyes blinking slowly as his consciousness rouses. _“So I came to see it.”_ Very matter-of-factly. The separation between Chanyeol's real self and his mask is thin. Blink and you'll miss it. Turn your head too quickly or not pay attention for one second and you'll miss which side it is. It's an easy feat for Chanyeol, owing much to his appeal. Handsome in looks and attractive in mannerisms when he lets the lion portion of his chimera through. It's one of the factors that has helped Chanyeol get out of trouble others less so wouldn't be able to. Chanyeol is attractive, charismatic, and taller than most people in here. He’s picturesque. It catches people off guard because they expect one thing and he gives them another and then another.

Multi-faceted charisma.  
Multi-faced.

One or two flashes of that sweet, dimpled smile have (in many cases) caused people to let things slide when they shouldn't have, when they knew they shouldn't have - but the appeal was overwhelming and so they gave in. Chanyeol is aware of this and uses it to his advantage because _Why not?_ It's useful.

 _“Chanyeollie came to see me suffer?"_ Baekhyun looks up at Chanyeol, a small pout forming on his plump lips. For anyone else, they’d instantly do what they could to comfort the older. But Chanyeol isn’t like that and Baekhyun doesn’t know how to process any of it. Before he can think further on why Chanyeol ended up his in room at this time of night, the younger continues-

 _“I crawled in, of course. How else do you think I did it?_ ” shaking his head like it should be obvious. _“I opened the door because it wasn't locked. They should really do something about security around here, don't you think hyung?"_ Chanyeol leans into Baekhyun, chin resting on the older’s petite shoulder. Anyone observing would think it’s a soft and gentle moment between two boys. Whether friends or lovers, it’s sweet and reassuring. Except Chanyeol doesn't feel anything. No intimacy. No bonding moment. 

However, Baekhyun does and so he leans into Chanyeol, thankful to have someone here he can somewhat rely on or at least share moments with so he doesn’t feel so alone. Someone to help the loneliness from seeping into his bones. Chanyeol knows his presence here in this room, despite the circumstances surrounding it, has comforted the older- so he continues with societal norms and plays his part well.

 _"They should."_ Baekhyun chuckles dryly, leaning his head onto Chanyeol, tired from this nightly ordeal and his perpetual hell. _"But if you don't mind, I should get some sleep. Doctor Kim wants me to go over some childhood trauma tomorrow and I'm going to need some shuteye to not scream out against suppressed memories."_ Baekhyun sighs as Chanyeol rubs his arm softly, the way a parent would as they read bedtime stories to a little one, as Baekhyun’s grandparents used to do for him.

 _"I don't mind."_ tilting his head to the side and smiling, Chanyeol looks passively at Baekhyun, before snuggling into his shoulder once more. He wants to play. It's unusual that Chanyeol wants to play and when it happens, Baekhyun’s usually excited because they both end up smiling or laughing and it’s a nice reminder that after everything he’s been through, there is some happiness still left in this world.

 _“No... you don’t. Good thing this isn't your room."_ Baekhyun’s brows furrow coupled with a slight smirk. He wouldn't mind a playful Chanyeol if he weren't so tired and if he didn't have a session in the morning. But as it stands, he really needs to get some sleep. To be honest, if it weren't for the rules, he might ask Chanyeol to stay. He always did sleep better with someone or something next to him.

_“No, I don't mind and this isn’t your room either. It’s the hospitals. Since I'm a patient here it’s just as much my room as it is yours... Baekhyunie."_

That name "Baekhyunie". Chanyeol only uses it when his playful mood is at its peak, which is apparently right now, which is also the most inopportune and unfortunate time for Baekhyun. He usually enjoys these rare concoctions the younger brings him at all ungodly hours of the night. Tonight is different. He knows the theme of tomorrow's session and if he could avoid it entirely, he would. But unlike his mischievous friend, Baekhyun doesn't want to stay here forever and if he doesn't get enough rest then he'll have an attack. And no one wants to or will release someone into the free world with that kind of emotional response to something as simple as a conversation.

 _“No, it isn’t. Get off my bed Chanyeol... Please.”_ It’s funny, Baekhyun thinks, that even in the most unusual circumstance he doesn’t fail to remember his manners.

 _“Oh, well since you said it like that.”_ Chanyeol moves on top of him, defined limbs stretching over Baekhyun’s lithe frame, arms resting over the older’s chest. _“I’m mostly off your bed now.”_ A self-satisfied smirk. And now it’s time to play. _“Baekhyunie, did you know the medicine they have you on for panic attacks actually increases your risk for having one? It's always like that isn't it? Take medication for depression? It increases your risk for depression. Take it for bi-polar disorder or bpd? Well you might have mania.”_ Laughing outwardly, the younger bends forward, lips and nose touching the sweat on the older’s neck, whose breathing hitches from trying to process everything that's happened in the past few minutes. He can feel Chanyeol’s lips open and his tongue slide up against the nape of his neck before breathing deeply and sucking against the goosebumps now forming along his skin. 

_“Baekhyun, baby, you taste so good._

**_Like sweat and panic.”_ **

Baekhyun’s eyes open wide before trying to shove Chanyeol off of him. However, Baekhyun is smaller, his body more fragile, and his efforts are futile. He tries to kick at him, push him off, twist and turn underneath Chanyeol’s body but nothing works. He’s simply weaker than Chanyeol. But Baekhyun, even in his state of panic, is smart and can think on his feet. Or, in this case, on his back. He shoves Chanyeol one more time before opening his mouth to call out for help and barely manages to get the shortest _"He-"_ when the younger covers his mouth swiftly, firmly, the scent of hand soap and sweat permeating his senses. The weight of Chanyeol’s body presses down onto Baekhyun as his mouth speaks tenderly onto the flesh of the older’s cheek. _“Shh... shh... I haven’t given you anything to scream about."_

_“And I won’t"_

***kiss***

_"If you let me"_

***kiss***

_"Do what I want.”_

His kisses are delicate, mixed with the institution's bargain mint toothpaste and a cold awareness of where they are: Seoul's third best choice for inpatient mental health. Curiously there are only four institutions of this type in the whole city. This one is currently hiring everyone from janitors and cooks to nurses and doctors. It's always understaffed. It's why patients who seem more capable help out where they can. Cheap or free labor; a bit like private prison. And so it's more of a playground than anything else for people like Chanyeol. But Baekhyun’s still new here or maybe he's never been in an institution before but he's never said anything about the small staff and it's a wonder if he's even noticed at all. It's certainly not information the younger would volunteer to the older. As many times as he's played with new patients, it's always better when they think help will arrive if they call for it. And it's even better when no help ever comes.

Chanyeol smiles at the thought as his chapped lips press down onto Baekhyun’s as he breathes him in. _"Fuck, you smell just like you taste. Like fear and sweat."_ With that a long lick up the side of Baekhyun’s face, from chin to temple. Chanyeol’s tongue is dry and rough, probably from the medications he’s on, and Baekhyun can't take it anymore. He twists and pulls, attempting to free himself or scream – whichever comes first. He can feel his heart rate increasing, worrying that Chanyeol wasn't playing a sick joke about an induced panic attack. If he has a panic attack, Chanyeol will leave him here and someone will overhear him screaming and flailing against his sweat-drenched sheets, maybe an orderly or nurse. It will look like a random, unprovoked attack. It'll seem as if he's not ready to go back into society. If that happens, he's going to be in here a lot longer than he hoped and what's more, he'll be stuck with Chanyeol to play with him however he wants for even longer. No. No, this can't happen! And so Baekhyun twists and writhes under Chanyeol, the friction of their bodies causing Baekhyun to sweat even more as his attempts become exhausted, his strength lessening after such a restless night.

Chanyeol keeps his eyes on Baekhyun, watches him struggling, sweating, panicking. It's a sight to behold. _"Baekhyunie, you're so beautiful when you struggle."_

With an array of kisses, Chanyeol whispers against Baekhyun’s lips:   
_Come on baby. Keep trying.  
_ _Get that heart pumping.  
_ _Push against me.  
_ _Try harder and I’ll let you go.”_

The younger thrusts against the older’s hips slowly, Baekhyun’s arms firmly gripped above his head with both hands. A repeated motion. He'll take his time with Baekhyun. No one's going to check on them until the sun is almost up... if at all. That's just the way it works in this place. They've never caught him before. Besides, it doesn't matter to Chanyeol anyway. Even if they did catch them what would it matter? They're already in here. And so he thrusts again, this time with more force. Rough. Hands gripping Baekhyun’s smaller wrists tighter. He hopes it'll leave bruises. He squeezes harder for good measure before bending down and biting gently on Baekhyun’s bottom lip.

He has such beautiful lips.

Baekhyun has beautiful everything but his lips... his lips are a rare type of beauty and they need to bleed for Chanyeol.

It's at this thought, Chanyeol concludes, that the night will not end until he breaks through Baekhyun's delicate skin, until his red and white cells leak out for Chanyeol to taste again and again. Nor will it end until Chanyeol's spit covers entirely the place Baekhyun's tears have fallen tonight and all other nights.

  
  



	4. Promise (약속)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The non-con smut fluff chapter. Be mindful of the tags and leave kudos or comments. It encourages me to continue!

_"Baekhyunie can't you feel it? You're starting to get hard."_ Chanyeol buries his face into Baekhyun's neck as he rubs up and down against the older's growing erection. _"You like this, don't you? You don't want to tell me, right? You think I'll look at you differently because you like it when I abuse you. I won't, okay?"_ Another thrust. _"I like you like this. I like when you're vulnerable.”_ Another thrust between the thin fabric that separates between what could be and what is. Chanyeol looks down to see more tears cascading, wetting the pillow beneath them. The blood is rushing to Baekhyun's cheeks and lips causing a rosy hue and plumping his already naturally pouty lips. It’s desirable. Baekhyun looks like an angel. An angel at Chanyeol's disposal. 

_"You're so pretty when you cry hyung",_ Chanyeol whispers softly into Baekhyun's side, rubbing his lips and nose against hot flesh. He feels the older tremble beneath him, Baekhyun squeezing his eyes shut still trying to push against him; his current feeble efforts in vain. Although the truth is, and Chanyeol knows it, that even if Baekhyun had his full strength he’s simply not strong enough to combat any force Chanyeol chooses to use. Chanyeol overpowers him easily and something about this predestined failure gives him satisfaction.

Baekhyun's tears are a mixture of salt and medication. Chanyeol thinks it's curious how medications always make things taste different, unpalatable. Whether it's urine, sweat, cum... there's always a medication taste and smell. Baekhyun is no exception to the effects of medication **nor** to the effects of biology as he grows harder in Chanyeol's hand. _"It's okay to admit that you like it Baekhyunie. Scout's honor I won't tell a soul."_

Freeing one hand to flit and flicker across Baekhyun's arms up to his forehead, Chanyeol kisses his cheek, then his neck, and his ears before composing a sadistic melody with tongue-play against shielded skin, creating goosebumps out of fear and desperation. Chanyeol hums to himself, smiling without feeling anything.

Playing Baekhyun's body like a piano, reaching an intermission only to bite and grind against the instrument that is Baekhyun's fragility. Moving to match the octave against the dancing lights in the sky. _"Kiss me then I'll release you."_ Fingers now circling just above the tip of Baekhyun's elastic waistline. It's not for pleasure. None of this is stimulating for Chanyeol, not in the way that would have Baekhyun panting and moaning "Yes yes Chanyeol. Please. More." He doesn't care about Baekhyun or anyone else on this planet, cadaverous or not. The older's panicked and fearful response acts as a crescendo to Chanyeol in a way that feeds his own disordered existence, elevating him in some way without moving him at all.

Baekhyun doesn't know this and he's fearful. He knows he should listen, it would be the safer thing to do, but he doesn't - he instinctively forces himself to close down, hoping against everything that maybe Chanyeol will get bored and leave. But it doesn't work. Others have tried this too. It never works.

Between tight lips and frustration, Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun's erection squeezing hard to let the older know a line has been crossed before tilting his head and patting lightly against the thin fabric and Baekhyun's precum. _“You're terrible and you’re going to play because I want you to. And we're friends. Friends don’t deny each other, Baekhyun.”_ Chanyeol smiles with amusement at the game and the fear he’s caused, the look of shock and horror and tired desperation on Baekhyun's tear-stained face.

But Baekhyun doesn’t budge. He can’t stop the tears and he can’t stop his own body betraying him, nor the precum leaking out and the small voice at the back of his head telling him he deserves it nor the desire echoing in the back of his mind that he wants it. Wants Chanyeol. Wants all of it. No, he can’t stop any of that, but he can stop pushing back. He can stop giving Chanyeol what he wants. And so he does. He decides to just lay there even if he has to wait until morning for Chanyeol to go back to his room.

 _“Ah Baekhyunie, it's so cute how you think this is a game I could lose and you could win. I’ve done this a lot longer than you. And really, who has the literal higher ground?"_

A change of expression; this time more stoic like all charade of emotion has passed. Chanyeol inches closer to Baekhyun's face and he can feel the hot breath of the younger before he pulls back sweaty hair and bites down on his neck, steady hands covering Baekhyun's mouth to ensure minimal sounds escape. Fingers twist on his arms, his waist, everywhere. Chanyeol sucks and bites anywhere and everywhere he can. He wonders if it will look like self-harm. _"I want to leave my own marks on you so every time you see it, you'll remember this night. Do you think you'll remember Baekhyunie? Please tell me you'll remember."_ He pleads and the tone is mocking. Chanyeol stops twisting to hold Baekhyun's head in both hands, eyes locked, anticipating an answer. _"Shake your head if you'll remember.”_

This time Baekhyun obeys, tears falling onto Chanyeol's hands as he does what he's told. It's at this moment that he feels the dichotomy in his thinking stretch, lengthen into something he can't restrain. He wants Chanyeol to leave so he can have some false sense of comfort and rest. But at the same time, there's something about Chanyeol being here, his control over Baekhyun, the weight of Chanyeol's body on his own, the way his body betrayed him over the urge to feel Chanyeol inside him, that gives some stability to the chaos that frequents his mind.

Whispering against their pressed lips, Chanyeol calls Baekhyun's attention back to him. _"Poor baby’s spacing out. Look at me, hm?”_ He can feel Baekhyun becoming more pliant beneath him, his vulnerability unfolding- it's not something Chanyeol expected. It's always been an outright adrenaline rush and he's loved every second of it. Baekhyun's reaction is surprisingly soft, yielding, susceptible so Chanyeol does the first thing that comes to mind. He caresses Baekhyun's face before kissing him on the lips and coasting down, dark eyes never leaving Baekhyun's hazy ones. He’s in a fog, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling steadily.

So beautiful.  
And vulnerable.

Chanyeol wonders if that’s how he looks after sex, incoherent and beautiful. He imagines Baekhyun in subspace, the older's slender body forever pliant beneath his hands, his lips parted and panting, with Chanyeol in full control. "No" meaning "yes" but also meaning "no". Meaning whatever Chanyeol decides. And Baekhyun acquiescing willingly, or not, but submitting nonetheless. If Chanyeol could get hard at the thought, he would. For now, his hands trail against the older's skin, his lips leaving kisses along the way until he reaches past Baekhyun's small waist, the older subconsciously bucking up at the hot breath and warm hands cradling his docile body. _“That’s it. You’re being such a good boy.”_ He wonders if he feels anything now or if he’s repeating words he’s read or heard somewhere. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t want to be close to Baekhyun. Hates that he’s pictured the older beneath him, eyes locked as Baekhyun takes him as deep as he’ll go, whimpers turning into moans. His soft eyes and pouty lips. His pretty smile. He hates it. Hates that his face feels hot next to Baekhyun's erection. Hates the thought of wanting to take it in his mouth and watch as the older arches his back up in pleasure, both of them feeling good for once in a long time.

 _Fuck this._ He takes one more look up towards Baekhyun's spacey, fucked out looking face, before biting down hard against his hip bones, watching as the older's face contorts in pain. _"Baekhyunie, I think I made you bleed.”_ Chanyeol feigns concern, pleased with the older's tears. This is better. It’s more his style. _”No, don't cry. It's not permanent... not physically. It's only a little reminder of our friendship. Don't you want to remember our friendship?_ " 

Baekhyun feels his chest tighten as Chanyeol wraps his arms around him and squeezes; once more nuzzling into his neck. Chanyeol's grip is firm but gentle, warm. A part of Baekhyun wants to nuzzle back and just say yes to everything. Another part wants to scream and scream until someone hears him. Not only now but forever, to just scream and scream until someone finally hears him, until someone rescues him. He doesn't want to like it, this feeling of Chanyeol against him nuzzling while hurting him. Chanyeol has hurt him so much tonight. But there is a comfort in his touch. When was the last time someone held him?

 _"Did you hear me?"_ Chanyeol takes something out of his pants. Something shiny. And sharp. _"I swiped it while doing janitorial work. If you’re good, they let you have privileges. Well, they do it to hire less people. The cheap bastards... Anyway, I’m not hard but we could still have some fun.”_

Have some fun.

_“I-I don’t.”_

_“I won’t get any pleasure out of it except to see the terror and panicked look in your eyes. Yes, that’s it. The one you have now. The one you had earlier."_ More hugs. More nuzzling. He must be covered in spit as many times as the Chanyeol has licked, bit, and sucked the various parts of his exposed body. _"Would you like to have this knife rip you in pieces from bottom to top? You want that don't you, Baekhyunie_ ? _Want me to tear you apart and make it hurt. Want to cry for me and beg for me like a good boy. My good boy."_ A soft hand placed firmly on the older's chin. _"Look at me when I'm talking to you."_

Baekhyun pauses for too long. He feels his heart rate increase, a darkness ascending, deafness save for a ringing unplaced. _“Earth to Baekhyuuuniee.”_ A saccharine song and a cruel slap to his delicate face. It hurts. More pain from the hands of the younger but something in Baekhyun is clawing to get out, to feel more of that physical touch. Something. Anything.

He suppresses it.

Chanyeol takes the knife and starts cutting through Baekhyun's pants, who only now realizes it’s storming out, the rain and wind beating against the thin window. _“You know I heard a story that if you count from 1 to 10 with the word Mississippi, it means that a storm is coming closer. Or something like that. It’s an American thing.”_ He chuckles as the knife continues to cut through Baekhyun's pants. _“I like it. Let's play a game, okay? I count from 1-10 and if you don't give me what I want, I'll take it. Now don't scream. We wouldn't want you covered in your own blood, would we?"_ Chanyeol makes a small cut across Baekhyun's thigh, droplets of blood weeping like the pattering weather against the window. 

_"Nooo.. Baekhyunie.. I'm so sad. Why are you hurting yourself? Pleeaase don't hurt yourself."_ Another small cut, more droplets of blood as Chanyeol looks at him with fabricated eyes that look sad but whose reality is only the opposite, pleading with Baekhyun to stop doing something he’s not. He bends down, kissing around the cut, lapping up the blood. Softly. Gently. Metallic and bittersweet. _“Tonight I will taste you in every way, hyung.”_

The older's tears now fall steadily mixing with a rising hysteria and perspiration soaking his cheap hospital garments. He’s finding it more difficult to calm his breathing as the seconds pass. _"No... please... Chanyeol. Please. Don't do this."_ Begging against all hope. 

It doesn’t work.

 _"Don't do what? This?"_ A firm hand wraps around Baekhyun's erection. _"You’re small everywhere Baekhyunie. Soo cute. My hand wraps all the way around so easily.”_ He pumps up and down, using Baekhyun's precum to lubricate and make it feel better for his hyung who has gone through so much recently. Baekhyun tries not to move his body along with Chanyeol's motion but it feels too good. He doesn’t look at him, can’t look at him. He doesn’t want this mentally but his body forsakes him and wants **only** this. 

_“Your little cock is perfect. I can take you all the way in the back of my throat. See? Look at me pleasuring you, Hyunie.”_ When Baekhyun doesn’t look, Chanyeol sinks his teeth into the older's erection before grabbing his balls as a punishment. _“When I tell you to do something, do it. I’m not going to ask twice again. Do you understand?”_

Baekhyun nods and looks down, seeing Chanyeol's hand wrapping around his erection. _“You have such a cute, little cock baby. Your head’s so red and you’re leaking precum everywhere. No matter how many times I lick it up, it wants more.”_ Baekhyun peers down again to see this is true. And the truth is, he wants it. Wants Chanyeol to suck him and make him feel good. Wants the pain mixed with pleasure that comes from the cuts given to him by Chanyeol and the ecstasy he’d feel with Chanyeol's lips around his cock, his tongue working the underside as Baekhyun's breath hitches and his eyes roll back, mouth parted waiting to take in Chanyeol when it’s his turn. 

Chanyeol smirks. He loves this game. _“You’re thinking about it now, right baby? You want me to put my mouth on your little red cock and suck like a pacifier until you’re all dry. Do you want it now Baekhyunie? Want Hyung to make you feel good.”_ A question Baekhyun's not sure he can answer followed by a playful, apathetic, laugh from the younger. 

Baekhyun feels his body betray him again. This is sick. He’s sick. He shouldn’t be getting off on this. It’s toxic and dangerous. How much further could it escalate if this is the first night?

 _“Hmm... baby didn’t answer but hyung is forgiving.”_ Chanyeol crawls on top of Baekhyun, taking off the older's shirt while Chanyeol is still completely clothed. He feels the younger's hands wrap around his neck, squeezing. _“Very forgiving.”_ Baekhyun swats at his hands, tries to free himself but Chanyeol is sitting on his chest and he’s finding it difficult to breathe. _“Y-you’re h-hurting me.”_ he manages to say through stifled breaths. 

Chanyeol ignores it completely, hands still wrapped around Baekhyun's delicate neck until there’s a spark of thought as he manages to get loose of his hospital garments; both boys now naked in Baekhyun's bed. The size difference more visible. Other things more visible as well. Baekhyun notices scars cover Chanyeol's body and wonders if Chanyeol did this to himself or if someone else did it to him. If he could comfort this boy right now, he would. Despite it all, he would. But his body is worn out and he’s too afraid to move without permission. He’s not even sure how much more he can take. Better to not bring it up or ask under different circumstances when Chanyeol isn’t sitting naked atop his bare chest. 

_"Let’s go back to the game before the storm finishes. What do you say Baekhyunie? 1 Mississippi. 2 Mississippi. You have until the count of 10. 3 Mississippi. Do you know what you’re supposed to be doing?”_

_“I.. I don’t want... please... don't. Stop."_

_“Don't stop? Okay then. 4, 5, 6 Mississippi.”_ He counts slowly as he climbs back down until he’s positioned at Baekhyun's entrance. Chanyeol thrusts aggressively to the sound of his counting, his own erection barely growing due to the side effects of one of the many medications he's on. It’s frustrating but he still has his tongue and he still has his fingers.

Lightning strikes outside illuminating their contrasting frames against the wall of Baekhyun's cramped room, shadows separate absent of the misfortunes experienced since Chanyeol crept in, uninvited. The sweat, tears, spit, blood, cum, scars. The trauma Baekhyun won't be telling Dr. Kim about in a few hours.

 _"Sometimes you need to be used. Do you understand, Baekhyunie?”_ Baekhyun doesn’t wait this time. He nods ardently.

 _“Good boy. 7, 8.”_ He’s given up saying the word Mississippi now as he makes Baekhyun suck on his middle finger before inserting it slowly, taking his time, into the smaller boy stroking him gently. Baekhyun's back arches and a quiet moan escapes his lips as Chanyeol moves his finger in and out, hitting spots Baekhyun wasn’t aware he had. He’s angelic. Everything from his pouty lips to his bright eyes to his slender and delicate frame; everything about him is ethereal and Chanyeol catches himself for the first time feeling _something_.

Baekhyun notices the light of the moon illuminates all Chanyeol's best features and thinks he’s lucky because on the outside Chanyeol might not have looked at him at all. And maybe he’s ignorant or maybe it’s because he can’t think right now or maybe it’s because he’s never had this kind of intimacy but the chaos leading up to this moment feels honest.

_“It feels so good."_

_"Hyung. It feels so good hyung."_

_"Yes. It feels so good hyung.”_

Chanyeol keeps thrusting and Baekhyun wishes upon all the world that he didn’t yearn for this, that Chanyeol would stop or that he'd wake up and this will have been nothing but a dream. But god it feels so good. Why isn’t this a dream? And not just this night. The entirety of everything. The reason why he’s here. Why can’t all of it be a dream? He's used to those. But this is real, too real. 

_“Do you want me to use you, Baekhyunie?"_

He nods because he does want it. He wants to be used and he wants to bleed for Chanyeol and scar for Chanyeol. He can’t explain it and if anyone ever found out, he’d say _“It was the medications.”_ But the truth is, he’s wanted this since the first time he ever felt anything sexual. When he started going through puberty, he knew it was fucked up and knew he couldn’t say anything to anyone - that is until this night with Chanyeol. In whatever way Chanyeol decides, Baekhyun will accept it. 

_“I want you to use me, hyung.”_

He can hear the desperation in Baekhyun's voice. This lithe body lying beneath him, pliant, ready, eager. It stirs something primal within him. _“Do you want me to abuse you, Baekhyunie?”_

_“Yes hyungie. I want everything from you.”_

He feels Baekhyun quiver underneath him, swallowing in a dry throat, lips un-chapped unlike his own. His obedient, fragile body, bruised and scarred from just one night. He’s covered in dry spit and memories. Chanyeol's work of art. 

_“Then say you’re mine.”_

Baekhyun opens his eyes, pulling Chanyeol closer before biting on his lip, an open invitation to kiss, arms wrapping around his neck that lacks restraint before running his hands gently over Chanyeol's scarred body.

_“I’m yours."_


End file.
